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"Thanks for the ride, Winnie. I owe you one." Bella smiled as they pulled up in front of Clarice's office building.
"You owe me tons." Winnie chuckled before Bella climbed out of the car. "I'll pull in some of those favors tonight when I go to work on our anatomy assignment."
Bella laughed with a nod. "Sounds good. Love you." She heard Winnie return the sentiment before closing the door and turning to see Clarice walking out with her badge to get back into the building. "Hi Mommy."
Clarice hugged her daughter, kissing the side of her head. "Oh boy. You just called me 'Mommy'. Bad day?" She pulled back and examined Bella's face, seeing the tired eyes and drained skin. "Really bad day?"
"It was great." Bella lied. "I was only verbally harassed by Krendler in front of the whole dance team at practice." She sighed before dropping her head to Clarice's shoulder. "Thank God he didn't wait outside for me this time."
Clarice huffed out a breath and wrapped her arms tighter around her daughter. "Men are pigs. So are boys. I wish I could tell you it gets better, but I'm still waiting for a nice guy." She glanced back towards the building, seeing Paul standing by the front desk. He gave her a salute, a smug look overcoming his face. "Do you want me to talk to your principal? I don't like seeing you come home like this."
"Pellagrim already offered to take me to the principal." Bella scoffed. "He's going to talk to him about Chet interrupting practices. Talks from authority figures only seem to make the harassment worse. It's senior year. I've made it this far."
"If it gets too bad, you tell me. If you want to switch schools, we can switch schools. I'll put you in my own witness protection program." Clarice smiled with her little joke. She kissed Bella's head again before letting one arm drop as they both walked back to the front doors. "The house is okay. I drove by around lunch, and everything was fine."
Bella leaned into her mother's side. "I heard about the body found in the park, Mom. It was all over school today."
It was Clarice's turn to roll her eyes. "I miss the days where I could prevent you from finding out things spread on the internet." She waved her badge before the door buzzed open. Letting Bella go in before her, she made a point to walk between her and where Paul was standing.
"Bella!" Paul's voice boomed. "I hear you're going out with my son this Friday night. Congrats. He'll be good for you."
"I said no." Bella stated, not bothering to turn to the dick who insulted both her mother and herself.
Paul frowned, glancing at Clarice who had stopped to glare at him. "Why? He's star on the football team. He might be able to remove that stick from your ass."
Bella raised her hand, flipping him off. She still didn't turn. "You're a prick, Paul. So is your son. That's why I said no." She turned down another hallway towards her mother's office, not bothered to even glance back at the shock on his face.
"Starling," Paul gritted through clenched teeth, "you need to discipline your daughter. She needs to know who she's speaking to. She can't just insult me and walk away. I get you're single parent and you aren't the most equipped one, but I know you can do much better."
"I happen to agree with her." Clarice smirked before going to follow her daughter. "And, go home. You don't work here anymore."
Bella held her text book open in her lap, glancing up at her mother every few seconds to verify she was still distracted by her computer. Although her anatomy book was spread out on her thighs, she wasn't reading about one of the body's systems or cell functions. It was always a task - sneaking a file from her mother's desk to read while she worked on a current case. The past few times, she had been slowly making her way through Lecter's file. . .again.
She had probably read it as many times as her mother had. Might even have the memory to brief someone on him with the exact wording inside the file. The interest her mother seemed to have in him had been passed onto her. An infamous serial killer had fascinated her mainly for his fascination with her mother. Clarice rarely talked about Lecter, trying to keep her as far from her job as possible. Luckily, the internet helped fill in the gaps her mother refused to discuss.
But, her attempt at hiding the file failed when Clarice opened up her bottom drawer and discovered the worn file missing. "Bella?"
Bella sighed and closed the case before tossing it onto her mother's desk, watching as she put it back in its proper place. "The file won't kill me."
"It's rude to take things. That's kinda his MO." Clarice raised her eyebrows before turning off her computer monitor. "C'mon, troublemaker. I'm starving. What are you in the mood for? I think that food truck you like is a couple blocks over."
"Finally!" She sighed, her hunger almost taking on a voice of its own.
The ascend up the stairs was carefully calculated to avoid waking the tenants. With quick movements, he landed in the upstairs hallway where three doors stood. One was open: the bathroom. The other two were a crack away from being latched. A poster of the classic Andrew Lloyd Webber piece, Phantom of the Opera, was taped up on one of the doors. Considering his day, he determined it was the little bird's room.
He pushed the door open gently, finding the teenager fast asleep with large headphones over her ears. A book rested over her stomach, obviously being her focus before exhaustion claimed her for the night. The floor had a few articles of clothing tossed on it, but the room was fairly put together otherwise. Her taste for the theater flared with the smallest of details, even down to the ballerina figure sticker at the bottom corner of her mirrored-door closet.
Hannibal pulled the headphones away from her ears before pausing the music on her phone. As quietly as he could manage, he plugged the device into the charger and lifted the text book off of her. He gazed at the cover - psychology and sociology. Clever girl. He set the book down beside her messenger bag on the floor before looking around for a blanket to cover her with. Not daring to open the closet, he moved to the wooden chest in the corner, happy to find a number of blankets inside.
He took a moment to admire them. One plush fleece. The other two tie blankets, homemade most likely. He briefly imagined his lamb and the little bird sitting down together to put the material together. It was domestic, not something he ever pictured Clarice doing. The thought made him smile though as he grabbed the blue and rainbow tie blanket. With much care, he let the folds come undone and draped the material over the brunette, bringing it up to her shoulders. She sighed contently as she turned onto her side and snuggled deeper into the bed. The little bird was as mesmerizing as her mother.
Speaking of her mother.
He adjusted the blanket around the girl's feet before tiptoeing out, leaving the door open just a sliver. Moving past the bathroom, he pushed open the second door and found his lamb, fast asleep, under the thick white quilt of her bedspread. Her auburn locks splayed out behind her on her pillow, her back to him. His feet carried him forward until he could see her face. Even with the nearly two decade stretch since he last saw her this close, his breath still caught in his throat. The feeling both scared and excited him. She always had the effect on him though.
It happened in a blur, and he couldn't tell how long he had been staring at her before he did it. With precision, he laid down beside her on the bed, eyes closing as he inhaled the scent he hadn't had the privilege of coming across in all the places across the globe. It was uniquely hers. Despite his flare for the finer things, he welcomed the fragrance to overtake his senses.
Then, movement. Touches. Skin grazing his. He kept his body relaxed although his instincts told him to go rigid.
Clarice curled herself against him, resting her head on his shoulder. She was still asleep. "Hannibal?" She mumbled before her breathing evened out once again.
He exhaled sharply. Even in her sleep, she was reaching for him. Just like he was always reaching, searching for her. He relished the feel of her body against his. He'd spent many nights recollecting their one night together. After fleeing from Krendler's lake house, he had returned to her place, this place, to wait for her return home. He nursed his hand, now boring a scar along the wrist and some lines of torn flesh from the cuff being pulled roughly over it. When she arrived, she helped him dress the wound before the tension was too much for either of them to take.
Her voice panting his name haunted him even during the day. The feel of her body against his. The power he used to drive between her legs, and the power he saw flow through her when she realized that he was undoubtedly hers. The first drop of blood she ever consumed was from his shoulder when she bit him. When that knowledge hit him then, it pushed him until they were both spent and exhausted.
Afterwards, he lay with her like this. Waiting until she fell asleep so he could disappear into the night. Placing a delicate kiss to his lamb's forehead and brushing her hair behind her ear, he repeated history and fled under the guise of darkness.
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